


Somewhere to heal

by 99Blackpanther99



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Depression, Dom Harry Potter, Dom/sub, M/M, Romance, Slow To Update, Sub Severus Snape, Weirdness, You Have Been Warned, references to child severus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 23:51:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15497613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/99Blackpanther99/pseuds/99Blackpanther99
Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts after six years, looking for somewhere to heal. Nothing is as he expected, and the relationships and the world around him have changed. He feels lost and abandoned, which is ironic in consideration of his own behaviour. He doesn't know if he can cope with the year ahead, but maybe there will be someone who can help him heal eventually.(This will be sporadically updated due to having so much work on at the moment. I also have very little clue where this is going, but to be fair that's how I usually write. It's just a weird idea that popped into my head tonight, but I will try to update as much as I can. Please read warnings as I update, my brain is not to be trusted, you have been warned :-) )





	Somewhere to heal

Harry failed to stifle another yawn as he was handed yet another piece of parchment. He placed his hand over his mouth, blushing slightly, hoping that Minerva would not take it as an insult. She merely chuckled, and he looked up, smiling self-depreciatingly. “Sorry, I’m a little jetlagged”.

The Headmistress nodded, her lips quirking again at the corners, “Understandable”, she returned, putting him at ease, “though I am surprised you chose to fly?”, she queried.

He looked at her for a moment, giving him time to frame his words, “I think I needed the time to sort things out in my head. I might not have completely given up on magic, but living day to day with magic is no longer second nature. It gave me a chance to really feel like I was leaving Australia and the muggle world behind. I am glad that I am back, but it’s not easy to completely give up a life I’ve had for six years”.

She nodded again in understanding, “I am glad you have decided to come home Harry”, she said gently, “It’ll take some time but things will work out in the end”.

Harry contemplated that for a moment, “Thank you for allowing me to come to teach here. You’re not just giving me a job, but a home and somewhere I can feel safe. The papers are going to go crazy when they realise I am home”.

Minerva chortled, “Yes, six years of speculation, and they still haven’t died down. How did you know?”.

“The only person I kept in touch with was Luna Lovegood, do you remember her?”, he asked.

“Vividly”, Minerva replied, smirking slightly.

Harry laughed gently at that, “I’ve never been able to figure out how, but she knew where I was, and sent me an owl. She would message me about once a month with updates, and I usually managed a pathetic reply about twice a year”, he felt a little shame at that, and he abruptly changed topic, “It was she who mentioned that the position was available, and I decided it was the right time to come home”.

“I know that it will be difficult with Ron and Hermione working here, but you were always so close, I am sure it will not take long before you are as thick as thieves again”, she stated, gazing at him with knowing eyes.

Harry looked away, not sure that would be the case. He had abandoned them without warning and for six years had made no attempt to contact them. They wouldn’t have known if he was even alive. He was not sure if he would be able to forgive one of them if they had done that, so he was not setting himself to believe they would forgive him. When he had first contacted Minerva and she had warned him that they both worked here, he had immediately said he had changed his mind. But she had continued to contact him for nearly three weeks, and when she had caught him one morning when he was feeling particularly desolate he had had impulsively agreed. So many times he had nearly cancelled, but his Gryffindor side was reasserting itself, and he did not want to let her down so close to the start of term. He had only agreed to a one year contract. He could bear this for one year if it didn’t work out, and it gave him the space and security he was so desperately seeking.

Eventually, all the paperwork was signed and Minerva invited him to follow her to the teacher’s lounge. It was three days before the students would return, but the Professors always returned early to set up their lesson plans.  He kept his eyes averted from the picture of the late headmaster, not yet willing to deal with that heartache, and followed her silently through the castle. Neither spoke, and he guessed she was giving him time to sort himself before meeting the people he had abandoned so easily. But the longer the silence went on, the more nervous he become; the bile in his stomach rising up to meet his throat. He glanced down at his hands, noticing they were shaking, and he had to consciously will them into submission.

“Come, Mr Potter, the other Professors will be dying to see you”, she told him jovially, oblivious to his struggles, or at least attempting not to humiliate him by drawing attention to it. At that, she opened the doors, and stepped in ahead of him. “Good evening all”, she pronounced, “Mr Potter has arrived”.

There was a collective breath as he stepped into the room, with him gamely attempting to keep his head up and appear unruffled. The first person he spotted was Hermione, her emotionless face unable to hide the hurt her eyes were portraying. The guilt was threatening to overwhelm him, and he had to force himself to swallow, before smiling tentatively at her. She regarded him for a moment, nodded gently before turning away, her gaze landing on her husband. Before he had a chance to really look at Ron, past his still garishly bright red hair, his view was obscured by the hulking presence of Hagrid, who greeted him warmly, pumping his hand and exclaiming how much he had been missed whilst he was gone, as if he had merely been travelling, and had not abandoned them all for six years without so much as a word.

For the next twenty minutes he was assaulted by various Professors, but he did not fail to note that neither Ron, Hermione, nor Snape came anywhere near him. He didn’t for a moment expect Snape to greet him, but the man hadn’t even looked at him, at least in the small glances he’d caught of him, sitting away by himself at the back of the room. He sighed with irritation. He had hoped that the Potion’s Professor would at least try to be civil with him now that he was also a Professor, but that clearly was not going to be the case. He shrugged to himself, he would not make it awkward on the man, but he wasn’t going to go out of his way to be nice, he had enough things to deal with. 

He didn’t even have time to go over and attempt to greet his once best friends because soon Minerva was adamant that he be shown his quarters, and he was whisked along without reprieve to his new home for the next year. It wasn’t exactly warmly furnished, but it was spacious and he was provided with a budget in which to make some purchases. He could already picture in his head the way he wanted his living room to look, and he could only hope that he would have someone who wanted to spend time with him in it.

“You have missed dinner Harry, I am afraid, but the house elves are happy to provide food at any time”. Minerva studied him gently, “It can be very lonely until you find your feet, but many of the Professors spend their evenings in the communal lounge”, she paused, “You might find it a good place to mend fences”, she stated gently, grasping his hand softly. She frowned slightly, “You unfortunately have a history with Severus, but I should warn you that he is not the same man that you knew, and I would be”, again she paused as if not sure how to phrase it, “careful of your approach to him if you do wish to make amends with old acquaintances”. Harry gazed at her in confusion, but she merely smiled, and then pulled back, brusquely announcing that she was leaving, and swept from his room. Harry pondered over her statement, but it made little sense, so he eventually shrugged, and sat down for some food.

Afterwards he wandered around his home for a while, but there was little to be done this evening. The house elves had unpacked for him, and he could not order anything to begin decorating until he ventured into Hogsmeade at the weekend to at least collect some brochures, it wasn’t like Hogwarts had the internet. He could feel his mood drop as home sickness set in, and he decided that he needed to at least be around people, whether they spoke to him or not. He headed back towards the lounge, mulling the entire time over what he might say to his former best friends.

When he entered, it was quieter than it had been earlier in the evening. Ron and Hermione were huddled together, pouring over some books. Two other Professors were playing chess in the corner, and he was surprised that Snape was still there. The man had his nose in a book, on the couch closest to him, but he was surprised by how relaxed he seemed. The entire room had a buoyant camaraderie feel to it, which surprised him.

“Evening”, he said softly, and he immediately saw his three old acquaintances tense. The two Professors in the corner, whom he didn’t know beyond basic introductions, seemingly failed to notice the rush of ice that swept over the room, and merely waved or nodded at him in greeting, their friendly smiles appropriate and welcoming.

Ron was the first to acknowledge him, “Evening”, he said gruffly, and again Hermione nodded at him without emotion. Snape peered up at him curiously, and then raised his eyebrow in expectation, failing to return his greeting. Harry rolled his eyes internally, but did not react. Instead choosing to sit down on the same couch as him. The heavy, silent atmosphere remained in the room, and he felt rather than saw the Potion’s Master tense, even though you could fit two other people between them. He could feel his annoyance beginning to rise; the man was being ridiculous.

Deciding to try to cut through the atmosphere, and shockingly realising that he would rather try for small talk with Snape than with his two former best friends, he turned to face him, “How have you been Professor?”, he asked, his tone neutral.

The elder man regarded him momentarily, “As well as can be expected”, he returned guardedly, ever the spy. Harry waited for a moment to see whether he would return the sentiment, and studied him surreptitiously. Snape looked surprisingly younger than he had the last time he had seen him six years ago. The stress lines were smoothed away, and whilst he couldn’t be said to have a healthy glow, he was no longer yellow, merely a slightly intriguing white. His teeth and hair were clean, , and whilst he could certainly never be mistaken for a model, even Harry could appreciate that if he didn’t know him, he might have tried to pick him up in a bar for a one night stand.

When the silence began to fill the room awkwardly again, he nodded towards the book, “What are you reading, Sir?”.

That seemed to have thrown the other man off for some reason and he tensed again, his eyes flashing with something Harry couldn’t name. “A book”, he replied eventually, his tone slightly condescending.

Harry could feel his hackles rising already, the other man really was still the nastiest piece of work. He might have changed physically, but even from their short interaction he could see he was still as haughty as he was before.  “I can see that”, he snapped, unable to hold back the retort. His emotions were already threatening to overwhelm him, and he didn’t have the strength to bury his irritation.

“Severus”, a voice called immediately, and they both turned to see Ron scowling slightly, “Come up here, you’ve been reading enough tonight, and I need your opinion on whether you think my third year class can manage this type of spell”. Harry was shocked at the evident intimacy between them, and the way that Ron seemed to almost be issuing an order beneath the obvious irritation. He was even more flabbergasted when Snape merely huffed as if put upon and then closed his book and walked up to the table. He watched as Ron placed his hand on Snape’s back as if protectively pulling him in close, before they all sat down at the table. Hermione was facing him, and she leaned in to whisper to him, before placing her hand on top of his, and then he saw her snort with amusement at whatever he replied. Watching the display it was evident that whatever relationship they had was dramatically different to what it once had been. He could never have imagined Ron willingly touching Snape. His once best friend had despised him more than anyone. Even more shocking was the way that Snape did not flinch away, nor did he seem even perturbed by the contact. Snape had been beyond guarded when he knew him, and he wondered how he could have transformed into allowing such easy intimacy, even in six years. Harry picked up a book on pretence, but he watched their interaction with curiosity, his eyes barely even skimming the words. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the seamless way they interacted was extraordinary. There was a an evident affectionate camaraderie between them that made his insides curl. He realised in that moment that he was jealous. Their interactions; head bent close, talking intently, causal touches that meant nothing and everything, the way they looked like they were scheming; it was the same way that he had been with them during school. It felt like a perverse parody to the relationship he’d once had with them.

After half an hour he couldn’t bear it anymore, and he left without a word. None of them attempted to chat with him, and he was feeling awful. He wanted to run away, just take off again and never return, but he knew that was what had pushed him into this mess in the first place. Ever since the night he had defeated Voldemort he coped by merely running away whenever things became tough. He was not oblivious to the fact that whilst he had told Minerva he was finally ready to come home, he knew deep down that he was actually running away again; running from the pain and the heartache and the responsibilities that he could no longer manage. Just watching them tonight he didn’t know if he had the strength to cope with everything. With facing everyone he had abandoned, realising everything he had truly lost, and finally facing the reality of the war. He knew who had died but it had been too surreal. He had mourned in his own way, but from a distance, and it made it less real, less clawing. He had thrown himself into new life after new life, forever avoiding the reality of being who he was, in so many ways. He knew he was a coward, and even now he realised that he was probably going to take the cowards way out. He wouldn’t run, but he wouldn’t put himself out there. He’d keep himself hidden and guarded and work out the year. It would give him time to feel safe and to sort through some of the pain, but he knew he’d probably avoid most of that as well. He could feel the self-loathing rising up again, and he stomped it down into that little chasm of himself that he hid away, even from himself. Instead he sneered internally and with a burning anger stormed back to his quarters.

**Author's Note:**

> All comments and constructive feedback is massively appreciated.


End file.
